Subsistence

I dare recall the days of dewy mist

When the expectant air parted, like lips

Through which the gloried names of Gods persist.

How dwindled now their offerings--but pips--

When first of harvest's fruits we once did give.

In ignorance our wants Their needs eclipsed. 

Primordial, the Deities still live.

With prayer and song we lift our hopes once more.

The thorny chaff of mishap They do sieve.

When we shall seek Their goodly grace, a door

Will part. When in good faith we make amends

We heal the broken bonds; the roots restore.

Entanglement of worries we resist

With strength. In good relations we subsist.